


Right Here

by Luzula



Category: due South
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-28
Updated: 2008-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser indulges a fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Akamine_chan's birthday. Thanks to Spuffyduds for the beta! This story is inspired by a line in Keerawa's story "Slow and Easy" that kind of stayed with me--I'm sure you can realize which one if you go and read it. Hmm, maybe I should have a tag saying "Keerawa is my muse". *g*

Ray closed and locked the door behind him and dumped his jacket in the corner. Next, the shoulder holster went off. He was sticky with sweat where the holster had pressed against his t-shirt and his shoulders were tense with unreleased violence. Yeah, Ray knew he said he'd kick the bad guys in the head, but he was a professional, and you didn't do that. Not unless they kicked first, anyway.

He stretched his arms above his head, trying to ease the tension. Maybe he could ask Fraser to give him a backrub later. His fingers somehow knew exactly where to press and how hard, just on the right side of painful.

Huh, where _was_ Fraser? He'd said he was staying over tonight. His jacket was hanging on a hook, but he wasn't in the living room, although Dief was curled up on the couch sleeping. The kitchen was clean and tidy, which was not the way Ray had left it that morning. They'd have to talk about that someday soon, because they were obviously not on the same page in the housecleaning book, and that could lead to trouble later on. Not today, though. Ray caught himself rubbing at his eyebrow, and shook his head.

Maybe Fraser had gone to bed already? He usually was tired after one of those Consular functions, where he had to make polite to diplomats who treated him like a waiter. Ray felt a tiny twinge of disappointment--he'd kind of hoped for a more constructive way to let off steam than punching people in the face.

Fraser turned out to be in the bedroom, but not asleep. He was sitting against the wall with both his own and Ray's pillow behind his back, reading a book, which was propped against his drawn-up knees. The sheets were gathered at his waist, leaving his chest bare.

"Welcome home, Ray." He put the book away, leaning over to place it face down on the nightstand. Ray watched the play of muscles in his arms and shoulder, then squinted to read the title of the book, but it was too small to read without his glasses. "Hi, Fraser."

"I'm sorry I couldn't join you. The reception was over at seven, and I tried to call you, but I couldn't get a connection." Fraser looked relaxed, and his hair was mussed and a little bit curly.

"The charge on my cellphone was out. But I was with Huey and Dewey anyway, I told you that, right? So it's not like you needed to be there." Ray sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting his hands on that bare skin.

"Yeah, you did tell me that. I wasn't worried." Ray ran his hand up Fraser's arm, feeling the biceps flex a little as Fraser leaned into him. His mouth was warm and soft, somehow languid, as he kissed Ray as if there was no hurry in the world. Kind of like he did after they'd had sex.

"Um, did you..." Ray sniffed the air, and yeah. He knew that smell.

Fraser blushed a little. "Well, I--yes."

Ray couldn't decide if he was disappointed that Fraser hadn't waited for him, or if the image of Fraser jerking off on his bed was the hottest thing ever. How his hand would stroke slowly, firmly, and then speed up as he got into it. He wondered what Fraser sounded like when no one was there to listen.

"Um," Ray said intelligently. Fraser reached out and stroked his fingers slowly along Ray's hard-on, which was painfully trapped in his jeans. Ray pushed him down, hands on his shoulders, getting his tongue deep into that yielding mouth. Fraser hummed approvingly, and Ray groaned as his hips found Fraser's thigh under the sheets and humped against it. God, he had to get those jeans off.

Fraser shoved him off a little, and Ray blinked at him, horny and bewildered.

"Ray, I was hoping you'd..." He trailed off, and pushing the sheet aside, he got up on hands and knees near the edge of the bed. Ray could see the muscles of his ass clench as he moved into position.

"Oh. Yeah. God, yeah. Let me just get the lube." Ray turned, stupidly knocking over a glass on the nightstand (empty, thank god) while rummaging for the lube in the drawer. Not there, where the fuck was it?

"That won't be necessary, Ray."

"What?" Since when did they not need lube for this? He moved his hand along the curve of Fraser's ass and then in between his legs. It was hot and slippery and Ray's fingers just slid right into him with no resistance, like they had an invitation. Which they pretty much had. Fraser made an encouraging noise and tilted his hips up.

Ray closed his eyes, trying to rein himself in a little, think about something besides his dick, which wanted in on the action. But the image of Fraser with his own fingers up his ass while he jerked off, maybe imagining Ray inside of him...man, that got to him. Did it ever. How Fraser's hips would move like he couldn't decide which hand he wanted the most, the one on his cock or the fingers stroking into himself. How he might make small gasping noises as he came, eyes closed and just totally focused on the pleasure.

Ray wasn't paying much attention to his own hands, but apparently they'd decided to get on with it and push his jeans and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. He steadied himself with one knee on the bed and shoved himself deep inside Fraser. Fraser grunted and braced himself with his arms, fingers tightening on the sheets.

"Fuck," Ray said faintly. "You all right?"

_"Yes."_ Fraser shoved back, like he was urging Ray to get on with it. Yeah, okay. He grabbed Fraser's hips and let himself go, finding his rhythm. Ray was good with rhythm, and he moved with it, feeling Fraser clench around him, impossibly good. He pried one of his hands off Fraser's hip and reached around for Fraser's dick, wanting to make sure he wasn't the only one having a good time. But Fraser swatted Ray's hand away, widening his stance.

Ray almost whimpered, because that was Fraser telling him to just go for it. He held Fraser open with his thumbs and thrust hard, again and again, feeling it build up like something inevitable. He looked down where they were joined, at the open v of his jeans and his belt buckle swinging free, and just lost it, coming for endless seconds inside Fraser.

Fraser moved a little, and Ray realized that he was kind of lying on top of him, and it couldn't really be that comfortable for Fraser with the buttons on Ray's jeans digging into his side.

"Sorry, didn't mean to squash you." He wriggled away, getting Fraser face to face. He looked kind of dazed and fucked out. "Um, did you...? I mean, I felt kind of selfish there..."

Fraser smiled at him, a lazy and satisfied smile like a cat curled up in the sun. Ray thought he'd be purring if he could.

"Mmm. Ray." He tugged Ray closer with a hand sneaking under the jeans that still half covered Ray's ass. Ray thought about getting out of them, but didn't have the energy.

"So what was that about?"

Fraser looked like he might blush if he wasn't still in the afterglow phase, but as it was, his words came out slow and sure. "Well, you remember our conversation the other day? About sexual fantasies?"

"Mm-hm." Ray nodded against Fraser's shoulder, then his brain caught up. "Wait. You mean you had a fantasy about me fucking you after you jerked off?"

"Well, the important part was that you do it urgently, with your clothes still on."

Wow, Fraser wanting him like that was so fucking hot. And even more, Fraser feeling relaxed enough with him that he could talk about his fantasies like this--that really got to Ray. He remembered Fraser the first time, the need of it, how his hands had been almost rough on Ray's body, and how he'd clammed up afterwards, not wanting to talk about it. Ray could feel the words in his throat, almost making it out this time: _"I love you, Fraser"_. But he shouldn't say it after sex, that didn't really count. Someday soon, he'd look Fraser right in the eyes and say it. He would.

Now, though, Ray said: "And did you like it?"

Fraser grinned again, looking just a tiny bit smug. "Oh, yes."

"Well, anytime, you know. It was my pleasure."

"That's good to know, Ray." Fraser sat up, tugging Ray's jeans and underwear off. Ray raised his arms over his head, and Fraser pulled off his t-shirt, too. Maybe he ought to brush his teeth. On the other hand, he really didn't want to move. Fraser spooning up behind him tipped the scales, and Ray decided that he was happy right where he was.


End file.
